


My Whole Existence Is Flawed

by jalapeno_eye_popper



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Biting, Bittersweet, Closer, Closer by NIN, Dark Revel, Death, Death Eaters, Emotional Baggage, Guilt, Happily Every After is Only a Dream, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Major character death - Freeform, Mercy Killing, Muggle torture, Murder, Mutual Fantasy, NIN, Nine Inch Nails, POV Severus Snape, Rough Sex, Slapping, Smut, Someone Must Be Chopping Onions, Songfic, Squicky, Sweet Sex, Tragedy, bookworms, breath play, everyone cries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:47:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27249802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jalapeno_eye_popper/pseuds/jalapeno_eye_popper
Summary: draughtofpeace: "Oh i would also love an sshg fanfic with Closer by NIN"jalapeno_eye_popper: "yeah that shit is like angsty obsessive snape to a tee aint it?"Resulting Fic: Severus is sickened by the atrocities he himself must perform to play his role, and Hermione helps him cope. Set during HBP, Hermione is 17 years old.You can listen to "Closer" by Nine Inch Nails (1994) at https://open.spotify.com/track/2oDqmfa2g8W893LlwJG1qu on Spotify.alpha'd by Psherman and beta'd by PhoenixDragon111EDIT: Wowzers I wrote this NOT KNOWING about https://youtu.be/Dv4ymap2pAI thank you Marriage1988 for sharing the link!
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Comments: 18
Kudos: 81





	My Whole Existence Is Flawed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Draughtofpeace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draughtofpeace/gifts).



Severus Snape was a loathsome Death Eater. He made sure of it. He was cruel to the children in his care. He was curt and unpleasant with everyone else. He did endless, thankless work on both sides of the war, and he preferred to be left alone in his resentment, thank you very much. Anyone who dared get too close was asking to be cut down, verbally brutalized and thoroughly discouraged from complicating his already-difficult life.

But every month, in the week leading up to the full moon, Malfoy Manor would be crawling with his despicable comrades for a social hour he could not decline. A single look across the Malfoy ballroom would provide, at a glance, a trove of information for Albus. The longer he stayed, the more he could analyze the interplay of the social groups, and the more valuable the information would be to the Order of the Phoenix.

After a few months, Severus understood the significance of the dates. When he was pulled from brewing Wolfsbane for the second time in a row, he and Albus hastily enlisted Hermione Granger to assist. That night, Severus stayed out later, knowing the potion was in capable hands, not that he'd ever tell _her._

He stayed out late enough to be invited to the after-party.

The timing with the phase of the moon was not only an inconvenience for anyone trying to help a werewolf undermine the Dark Lord's allies, but also a chance to let those who embraced the wolf unleash their increased aggression, even in human form. Fenrir Greyback was in charge of gathering entertainment and escorting them to the dungeons of Malfoy Manor. The ones who failed to meet Lucius Malfoy's standards were given back to the pack, for whatever sick purpose Greyback deemed appropriate.

 _♪ You let me violate you_ _  
_ _♪ You let me desecrate you_ _  
_ _♪ You let me penetrate you_ _  
_ _♪ You let me complicate you_

The muggle girls (and a few boys, too) were penned up in the middle of the largest dungeon chamber. One of his masked fellows clapped Severus on the back, and the distinct voice of Mulciber chortled, "I spy a tasty redhead. That was always your type, eh, Sev?"

Severus would have shuddered, had he not spent years repressing that instinct. Luckily, he was not expected to perform as he had in the past, though he pretended to examine his options closely. Perhaps those with the proper connections in the Order of the Phoenix would be able to review his memories and at least offer some closure to the families that could be found. He did not expect any of these muggles to survive the night. While some of the Death Eaters took their new toys to private rooms, several of the new recruits, as well as a few of the old guard, stayed in the common space. Severus next had to pretend to be enthralled by the show Bellatrix put on, torture-fucking one of the young men, hardly more than a boy.

Malfoy returned from a private room with a smug look on his face that turned sour when he spotted Severus lingering over the captives. He gestured dismissively toward the girl who cowered under the waves of her red hair, blocking her face from his scrutiny. "Have you not yet enjoyed yourself, old friend? I made a point of describing exactly your preference to Greyback. Shall I hold her for next time?"

Bile rose in Severus' throat, but he managed to say, "It is your home. Do as you please."

When he finally made his excuses and apparated back to Hogwarts, he bent over next to the main gate and vomited. He hadn't eaten or drank anything at the Manor -- He was not _stupid_ \-- so the acid burned harshly in his throat, but he welcomed this pain. It was so much simpler than his whirlwind of repressed emotion after what he had witnessed and knowing what he was expected to do next time. The worst part, by far, was after removing the memory to Albus' pensieve, immediately watching it again. It wouldn't do for Severus to have a lapse of memory amidst the Death Eaters next month.

After withdrawing from the pensieve, Severus slipped to his knees, and he whispered, "What should I do, Albus?"

The old wizard stepped close and laid his good hand on Severus' shoulder. He smelled of fresh lemon, cleansing the lingering stench of sweat and waste and stomach acid from Severus' sinuses. He sounded very old indeed when he said, "I wish I knew. For now, I will consult with the Aurors in the Order." The hand on his shoulder gave a squeeze and then withdrew. "Go get some rest, Severus."

But there was no rest for the wicked, as a matter of fact. There was a potion he had to check up on before he could retire. As he slipped through a chain of secret passages, he cast a quick _tempus_ and was dismayed at the two o'clock hour.

And further dismayed to find Miss Granger still in his private lab.

She was asleep, leaning back in a chair she must have conjured for herself, an open book face-up in her lap, one hand barely holding on with her fingertips. An odd sensation squeezed his chest. He could easily imagine, in another universe, in another life, another decade... a quiet life as a potioneer, coming home at night to a studious woman who fell asleep with a book as often as he did. This thought was unexpected and unwanted. He didn't have time for sappy fantasies.

He snarled to himself and then barked, "Miss Granger!"

The girl did not jump a mile as he expected. Rather, she sucked in a deep breath, opened her eyes, and smiled at him, sighing as she rolled her neck.

All the blood rushed from his face straight to his cock.

"Welcome home," she murmured, and then marked the page in her book with a red ribbon, and finally reached for her bag. "Potion's over there." She tipped her head toward the relevant workbench, even as she latched the buckle and firmly gripped the shoulder-strap. "What time is it?"

Miss Granger did not seem rushed to have the answer. He almost wished she put her hand in the air and bounced in her chair; it would be so much easier to cut her down for acting like a swot. But no, instead she stood and stretched another knot from her neck, then her shoulders. She twisted her spine, and he heard a soft pop that made his uncomfortable cock twitch beneath his robes.

When she seemed satisfied with the state of her body, she cast a concerned look his way. "Are you all right, sir?"

No, he was definitely not all right. After the night he had, he needed to go to bed, but all he could think about was picking her up and taking her with him.

She stepped closer.

 _No, stop!_ His mind was screaming, but she was no legilimens, and he struggled to make his mouth obey. "Out," he whispered, tongue feeling heavy.

"You're shaking like a leaf," she said slowly, brow furrowing. She reached toward him, and then apparently thought better of it, snatching her hand back and stroking her chin thoughtfully. "Can I help you to the hospital wing?"

Severus _was_ shaking. He could feel the tremor in his wrist, the sway of his unsteady feet. "Bed," he croaked, taking a step.

To his humiliation, he wobbled, and instantly Miss Granger was at his side, grasping his arm and hauling him along. It was all he could do to speak the password at the door to his quarters. He didn't remember the rest of it well the next day, but his mind provided flashes of sensory memory. Soft hands with a firm grip helped him shuck his boots and strip down to his underpants. He remembered the dream clearly, though. The dream that she stayed, and that she woke him in the middle of the night with teasing touches, hot kisses, and he responded by shagging her with greedy abandon.

 _♪ Help me  
_ _♪ I broke apart my insides  
_ _♪ Help me  
_ _♪ I've got no soul to sell  
_ _♪ Help me  
_ _♪ The only thing that works for me_

When Severus woke up alone, he wasn't so sure Miss Granger had been there at all, and he cursed himself for a touch-starved fool. They resumed their usual classroom dynamic, and neither of them said a word about the strange encounter. When he was called again for the next Dark Revel, she promptly reported to the lab again, and he abruptly took his leave.

After the inane chatter with the spouses and mistresses of the Death Eaters at the official social call, Severus was nearly pleased with the change of scene to the dungeons. This time he did not hesitate. He did not wish to stay for Bella's show, or anyone else's. He approached the redheaded girl, towering over where she sat huddled in the pen. The others were new, most of them weeping and trembling with fear, but this girl was deathly still until he cleared his throat loudly.

She raised her head, and he was relieved at how her features, other than her hair, were nothing like Lily's. But he was struck by the dull look in her light hazel eyes. The acceptance. The resignation.

He cast at her bindings, and she made no effort to fight him or to flee. She went with him down the dim corridor to a private room, where he searched high and low for surveillance charms before casting _muffliato_ and a handful of other privacy spells.

Then he turned to look at her. She had already taken off her tattered robe and was crawling onto the bed. Severus fought the urge to retch. After spending a month in the Malfoy dungeons, she had been completely broken to compliance. Probably the first night had been enough. He snatched up the robe off the floor and draped it around the sitting girl's shoulders before perching on the bed next to her. Eyes open but lifeless, the girl simply stared at him.

He was tempted to legilimize her, but he was certain that would only make him sick. "I don't want to hurt you," he murmured, stroking her lank, dirty hair.

She winced and whispered, "The ones who say that are the worst."

Now wondering if he should legilimize her, after all, to gather more evidence of Death Eater crimes, he was thankful her eyes were drifting closed and blocking that option. He asked, "Punishment games?"

She nodded.

He pulled a vial from his pocket and conjured a glass of water. She accepted the cup with shaking hands but managed to sip it slowly. He said, "That's not what I meant."

"If you really mean it," she said slowly, blinking a tiny little spark back into her eyes, "then kill me."

Looking pointedly at the glass she held, flashed the empty little vial before tucking it in his pocket, and said, "I just did."

"Magic," she scoffed. "How long?"

"Not long." He didn't know what possessed him to apologize again and admit, "I'm sorry that you were kept here and abused so long because of me."

She sucked in a breath and then said, "Snape." An odd smirk lifted her lips. "They talk about you, you know? Out there by the pen. I choose to believe you will betray them exactly as they fear you will."

He was impressed by her insightful observation and pragmatic hope, far stronger than the pureblood supremacists who held her captive. He mirrored her smirk and replied, "Have no doubt about that."

The poison began to take effect, with a tremor starting in her hands, and her jaw clenched. But she wrenched it open long enough to say, "For now you have to play the part." Her breathing was coming out ragged, but a steely determination lit up her eyes. "I know there are mind-readers among you, so you better make it look good for when they take a peek in your head."

To his astonishment, she lifted her shaking hands, giving him the glass to vanish, and then pushed back the robe and opened her arms in a perverse parody of a lover.

 _♪ I want to fuck you like an animal  
_ _♪ I want to feel you from the inside  
_ _♪ I want to fuck you like an animal  
_ _♪ My whole existence is flawed  
_ _♪ You get me closer to god_

Back at Hogwarts, Miss Granger was waiting for him again, this time awake. He was greeted by the same smile, and the same stretch of her neck and back from the way she'd been slouching with her book. She even said the same thing: "Welcome home. What time is it?"

The universe was mocking him. Strong women, _Lily,_ rejected him. Strong women did not accept and welcome Severus Snape. And it didn't matter. He killed them all. Would he have to kill this one, too? His hand twitched, itching to draw. He would probably need more practice before he could raise his wand to Dumbledore in the coming months.

Sense of deja vu multiplying by the minute, he saw the girl's eyes narrowed in concern, and she asked, "You're trembling again. Can I take you to bed?"

She just had to say it that way, didn't she? Heat coursed through his body, cock twitching despite how he emptied his balls less than an hour ago.

Miss Granger blushed bright pink, apparently realizing what she had said.

Despite the heat in her cheeks, a steely determination lit up her eyes, and Severus had to blink away the sudden flashes in his mind's eye, of the same exact look on the redhead earlier tonight. He hadn't even known her name. But this one, this one... "Miss Granger," he snarled. "You need to leave now."

The determination morphed to defiance. Damn. He was too tired and shaken to deal with her properly. He was at his wit's end...

And something snapped.

In an instant, he was in her space, one hand wrapping around her waist and the other buried in her bushy hair. He crushed his lips to hers in a bruising kiss, and he thrust his hips against hers so she would have no doubt what he wanted.

The girl moaned into his mouth, and he swallowed the sound hungrily.

Her hands tugged at his robes, but after a minute she stopped responding and pushed her palms flat on his chest. He wrenched away, breathing hard, a bit dizzy. He had lost control, and his body was on fire, and he was sure he was shaking again.

Miss Granger's soft hands took one of his, and she said, "Bed."

He shook his head and choked out, "You don't know --"

She put her fingertips to his lips, shushing him, and he closed his eyes and puckered to kiss them. "I don't need to know," she said softly. "Professor Dumbledore filled me in on some things. He is afraid you're cracking up."

He was surprised at how this stung. Without Dumbledore, no one had any faith in him.

She tugged at the hand she still held, toward the door between his lab and his quarters, and she said, "Let me help."

Severus followed her. What else could he do? He spoke the password, but after only one step inside the door, he stopped, planting his feet, his conscience and his soul crying out for one more try to do the right thing. "I'll hurt you," he warned.

She shrugged. "Probably."

The acceptance. The resignation. But a tiny little spark with each blink. Severus bolted to the loo and emptied his stomach. He leaned there for a minute, forehead on the porcelain, throat burning, knees aching on the floor, hands gripping the bowl until his knuckles turned white.

Then she came in. He could smell her. Light vanilla and parchment and the lingering stench of Wolfsbane. He heaved again, but there was nothing left to come up.

She kneeled beside him and peeled his hair back from his face, twisting it up and securing it with a charm. He didn't dare move as she formed a cool, damp cloth to the back of his neck, but then she held it in place with one hand and used the other to gently pull at his shoulder and straighten him up. She pressed a glass of water into his hand, and he accepted it gratefully for a swish and spit.

"Now you need a bath," she said sensibly.

"I needed one before," he countered.

She rose to her feet and hauled him up with her. She reached for his robes, pushing them off his shoulders.

"Miss Granger..." he growled.

The girl simply smiled and went for the coat buttons next. As she efficiently stripped him, she said, "How about tonight, I'm just Hermione, and you're just Severus, and tomorrow you can deduct as many house points as you need to justify the liberty."

He snorted, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, unsure what to do.

Her smile widened, and soon he was nude before her, while she was still fully clothed. He felt heat in his cheeks and made haste for the bath stall, but instead of drawing a proper bath, he turned on the shower.

Miss Granger -- Hermione -- lowered the toilet lid and sat down to wait.

At least she gave him that much privacy. He'd been concerned she would do something far too intimate, like insist on a proper bath and scrub him down herself. He was starting to feel human again by the time he was finished cleaning up. His arousal was gone, and his breathing was steady. When he shut off the tap, she simply handed him a towel and walked out.

He hoped she would stay.

Reasonably dry, he didn't even look in the mirror before he wrapped the towel around his hips and made his way to the bedroom. Severus was suddenly nervous. What would he do if she was still waiting for him? What would _she_ do? He didn't have answers to either of these questions, only a sense of urgency to open the door.

She was there.

He didn't quite know what to make of the way his heart leapt. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, holding a comb. When he stepped inside, she gave him the same _welcome-home_ smile that lit up her face twice before, and he knew he'd do anything to see it again. She didn't even have to say anything now. He approached, turning and kneeling to present the back of his head. She had gone from girl to goddess in the space of two months, and if she wanted to comb his hair, who was he to deny her?

 _♪ You can have my isolation  
_ _♪ You can have the hate that it brings  
_ _♪ You can have my absence of faith  
_ _♪ You can have my everything_

Hermione started at the ends, working her way up through the snarls. As she worked, she said, "I want to tell you something, something I didn't quite realize about myself until that first night I was waiting up for you."

He leaned back slightly, hoping she would touch him with more than a carved-bone comb.

"It was silly, really, just daydreaming about what life might have been like without a Dark Lord trying to kill me and all my kind. For a minute there, I could imagine I was living that dream. I was brewing this challenging potion and feeling at peace, and I was making myself at home in your lab, and it was so blissfully quiet down here I didn't want to go back to the airheads I have to share a room with." Her free hand draped over his shoulder, squeezing lightly. "I never thought of you like this before, but it was easy enough to admit I'd much rather stay with someone who has more than two brain cells to rub together."

Severus felt like all he had was two brain cells at the moment. Too many thoughts and feelings and not enough capacity to process them.

The comb stopped sliding through his hair, and a second hand rested on his other shoulder before both slipped down and splayed across his bare chest, which suddenly felt quite tight. Her breath came out in puffs over his ear, and her hair brushed the side of his face. Light vanilla and parchment filled his senses.

Then she withdrew, and he tensed, unwilling to turn and look at what she was doing next. But he didn't have to. A minute later, she tossed her jumper to the floor in front of them. Soon, her brassiere joined it. He felt her shift and slide off the bed next to him, and he finally turned his head enough to see she was shimmying out of her skirt.

He rose up before she could reach for her knickers, and he wrapped his arms around her, pinning hers to her sides, and burying his face in her hair. "Stop," he said, feeling strangled by the pressure of the ache in his chest.

She wiggled until she could get her arms around his middle, and she squeezed, and strangely enough, this _loosened_ the pressure.

It was even a little easier to speak, so he suggested, "Lie on the bed with me. Let me hold you. And tell me what Albus said to you."

Hermione shifted and pulled him with her as she crawled into place, leaning back on the pillows and opening her arms. He shook his head to clear the image of the redheaded girl with exactly the same openness. Once he was horizontal, he didn't hesitate to put his head on her breast and twine one leg with hers. As her arms came around his shoulders, he could hear her steady heartbeat, a metronome by which he could slow down his to match.

This glorious living pillow spoke to him softly, "I won't say exactly what Professor Dumbledore told me. Personally, I don't care for the way he leans on people's guilt. He does it to me, too, constantly pressing the point of how hard Harry's life is compared to my own. I understand he uses your guilt for Lily by pressing the point that she doesn't even have her life anymore, and he knows you feel responsible."

Severus whispered, "I am responsible."

"Severus," she said sharply, even though her touch was still soft. "Even if that were true, which I'm not so sure it is, you have more than made up for it already. Did you love her?"

He nodded against her, not too distracted by the feel of her soft chest to say, "I will always love her."

A silence descended, and he was nervous again. He should have taken a position where he could look in her eyes. Then he would know everything -- her sincerity, what Albus told her, _everything._ But all he had now was her perfectly even breathing and her heart that didn't even skip a beat as he talked about his devotion to someone else. Finally, she said slowly, "That's sweet. I never pegged you for sweet. I might need a minute as my worldview tilts."

Severus snorted, and he lifted his head to look at her. She was smiling at him again, and whatever cutting remark had been forming died swiftly on the tip of his tongue.

This time when she said his name, it wasn't sharp at all, but more like a purr, "Severus, you didn't hesitate last time."

Heart pounding, voice thick, he said, "It was just a dream. Am I dreaming again?"

The pain in her eyes cut him to the bone. He warned her that he would hurt her, but he didn't realize how much doing so would hurt him, too. Though it felt like salt in the wound, he was impressed when she simply said, "Yes."

Severus wasn't so far gone this time, and he knew it was real, but pretending it was a dream was so much easier. In a dream, he could be sweet for her, the first time he'd be sweet for anyone but Lily. The first time a girl made him _want_ to be sweet at all. Crawling up her body, he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers.

She kissed back with enthusiasm, and he closed his eyes tightly as he licked along her lower lip, savoring her taste. She opened her mouth immediately, but he took his time, learning every curve of her, memorizing the way she moved her tongue against his. He opened his eyes to find hers looking back at him with heavy lids, lashes fluttering. He felt a twitch in his lips, long-disused muscles straining to smile and probably showing her a twisted smirk. Then he kissed her jaw, and then her neck, and then her collarbone, slowly but surely making his way down to play with her breasts.

He was slow and methodical once again, and her hands buried in his hair as he explored the delectable flesh below him, these soft, warm masses topped with hardened little nipples. He pinched one with his fingers and the other with his lips.

"Oh, Severus!"

His name, gasped in pleasure, was a sound unlike any other.

She tugged at his damp hair, pulling him up for another fiery kiss. He moaned against her lips, grinding against her thigh. Hermione pulled on him again, tugging him over top of her, and he hastily relieved her of her knickers before settling in the cradle of her thighs.

Her skin was silky and hot, and he kissed along her collarbone, but she apparently had enough foreplay, and she reached between them to grip his cock and guide him into her. Their coupling was swift. He was greedy again. She likely did not come, but he was tired beyond caring, and she was so soft and welcoming. The little minx gripped him tightly with her wet cunt until he was thrusting wildly, and his orgasm ripped through him with a pleasurable power equal and opposite Cruciatus itself.

Then he lay, panting, on top of her, and she stroked his shoulders and back, murmuring softly. When his head finally cleared enough to hear what she was saying, she was tucking his hair behind his ears and whispering of a future he dared not hope to have.

"...as long as there's enough room for a library, and a potions lab, too. I would always doze off while studying, just like I do now, but when you come home and wake me up, that's when we'll really live the dream..." 

She was so young. She couldn't possibly know what she was saying. She couldn't possibly know how tempting it was to abandon everything here and whisk her away and hide out with her to the end of time. To run away and become somebody else, a man worthy of their mutual fantasy of peace and quiet and books.

 _♪ Help me  
_ _♪ Tear down my reason  
_ _♪ Help me  
_ _♪ It's your sex I can smell  
_ _♪ Help me  
_ _♪ You make me perfect  
_ _♪ Help me_ _  
_ _♪ become somebody else_

Christmas Eve was a full moon, so Hermione Granger would stay at Hogwarts and be prepared to brew Wolfsbane. This was all known well ahead of time and expected.

What Severus had not expected was to find Hermione in his lab immediately following Slughorn's party. Even so, when he registered her presence, he felt a flash of hope for the _welcome-home_ smile, but then he scowled when he realized it wasn't coming.

She was crying.

He nearly turned on his heel and left. He had enough problems to deal with. But she had comforted him when he needed it most, and he could not do any less for her. So he didn't say a word as he took her to his bedroom, gathered her up in his arms, and let her snivel all over him. She raged about the daft boys her own age, and then she wiped her snotty face on her sleeve, looked at him with big brown eyes, and declared, "You could never be so dim-witted."

Severus let out a hollow chuckle, devoid of real mirth. "At their age? You might say I was as daft as they are and cried more than you do."

She sniffed loudly. "I don't believe it."

He raised one eyebrow. What could it hurt? Everything was so fucked up anyway. He could tell her. She hadn't spilled any beans yet. Perhaps a little confidence with Hermione Granger would be a good hedge in case Albus hadn't hedged enough bets himself. Severus swallowed hard, gathering his courage, and he said, "They called me _Snivellus,_ and when Lily defended me, I told her I didn't need help from a Mudblood."

She blinked in surprise and then frowned deeply. "Who's they?"

"What?"

"Who called you that? That's not funny. That's almost as despicable as what you called her."

A little part of him cheered at how she had not laughed, just now, and another part shrank back from the indirect jab she had taken at _him._

"Well?" she pressed, fury in her bright eyes, "Who needs a thorough scolding?"

Her righteous indignation on his behalf was such a balm to his soul. The truth was _everyone_ had called him that blasted name, including some of the staff when they thought he couldn't hear. But he was honestly afraid to tell her that truth, lest she immediately hunt down certain professors still employed at Hogwarts to give them a piece of her mind. Finally, he said, "That was a long time ago. If any action is needed now, do you doubt my ability to deliver such a tongue-lashing myself?"

She blushed, and the hard lines on her face were replaced by the _welcome-home_ smile.

That night, they each selected a book to bring to bed, to read until their eyelids drooped, and then simply held each other as they slept. The next night, they brought books again, but they played a tease game, reaching and touching, each trying to distract the other enough to look away from the pages.

When Severus finally abandoned his book, it was because she had crawled between his legs, holding her book up in one hand and continuing to read while she gripped the base of his erection and licked it idly like a lolly. She won that round, but he won the next, worshipping her delicious little pussy with his lips, pressing on her clit with his nose while he fucked her with his tongue. She even tossed her book aside right before she came, and he wondered if she had ever treated a book so meanly in her life.

Two perfect nights of domestic bliss.

And then he was called for the next Revel. A new redhead was presented to him. She was feisty, and he had to raise his wand to her in front of the others at the pen. Hoisting her limp form over his shoulder, he carried her to a private room on a wave of cheers led by the Lestranges.

He had to kill the girl. He had to make it look good. He also had to vomit before he even left, and he decided he may as well leave the mess, arranging the body to imply it was _she_ who was so sickened by his depravity.

Albus was not available to take his report, so Severus left the memory in the pensieve and selfishly chose not to review it immediately. He knew something horrible had been in the new little empty nook of his mind. He could guess, based on the memories he did keep, and also the lingering stench of stomach acid and sweat, clinging to his senses and his clothes. He made a point of ducking into a bathroom to freshen up, something he never would have done before he expected Hermione to wait up for him.

He was starting to rely on her presence in the lab, and her _welcome-home_ smile. After all their time together in the last two nights, he could tell he was falling for her, and he was falling hard. It was weak, and it was dangerous, to be so attached to her. It was _classic Severus,_ though, clinging to the strongest witch he could find, obsessing over something he could never actually have. With a bitter feeling pressing on him, he returned tonight's _welcome-home_ smile with a scowl.

Her expression became tinged with concern, but she put away her book and held out her hand and simply said, "Bed."

As she led the way, even speaking the password he had not expressly given her permission to use, his thoughts turned dark indeed. How dare this girl take such liberties? How dare she worm her way into his heart and confuse his feelings? What would she do if she knew what he had done? She would abandon him, that's what. She would abandon him, just like Lily, and he would kill her, just like Lily.

She would be one hell of a martyr for the light. She would become a legend. A goddess. The patron saint of Mudbloods. The side of Light would rally stronger than ever, and they'd finally have a chance to win against the Dark.

It was only too obvious to him, now. Albus had sent her to him, told her too much, and set her up. Set him up. He would have to kill her.

But first, he was going to fuck her again.

He was extra rough with her, but she took it all and gave as good as she got. He slapped her, and she slapped right back. He bit her shoulder, and she sunk her teeth into his chest. He thrust roughly, and she dug her heels into buttocks. He held her down, and she put both hands around his neck.

That was a new one. He'd never had a partner restrict his airway. The lack of breath was oddly heady, sending him into a trance. When his own grip slackened, she hooked his leg with hers and flipped them over, adjusting how her hands laid on his throat to keep his windpipe closed without crushing it, and he could feel his pulse thumping against her fingers. Though her hold was steady, her hips wrenched at a severe angle that slid the very tip of his penis hard over her g-spot. He could feel the change in the tightness of her cunt as she approached her orgasm, squeezing him to the edge.

She spasmed around his cock at the same time she released his neck, throwing her hands back to brace on his thighs as she came. The sudden flow of oxygen to his extremities set him on fire in a way he would not have believed possible. The sight of this girl riding him -- using him for her own passion -- kept his eyes open while he came undone. He cried out in ecstasy, hands rising in time with his arching back, palms-up in supplication of the goddess who taught him this magic.

 _♪ I want to fuck you like an animal  
_ _♪ I want to feel you from the inside  
_ _♪ I want to fuck you like an animal  
_ _♪ My whole existence is flawed  
_ _♪ You get me closer to god_

Hermione collapsed on top of him, panting, and he wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly.

He found his voice, and his breath, and asked, "Do I want to know where you learned that?"

She snorted, which sent a breath of hot air across his ear, and he shuddered. Then she murmured, "You can learn a lot from books, and I figured you'd be strong enough to fight me off if I took it too far." She pushed on his chest with her palms and arched her back so she could look at him. "If you want to do it again, we should have a safe word and signal."

He nodded, gathering up her hair in both hands, clearing it back from her face so he could better see her expression. He wanted a good look at her eyes; he wanted to enter her mind, to see if her idea of _again_ was as soon as he hoped. When the effort to contain her hair revealed his handiwork on her shoulder, he grimaced.

She tilted her head, following his gaze, and shrugged. "Seemed like you needed something different tonight."

Severus didn't know what to say, so he pulled her back down and simply held her again.

She dozed on top of him, her flyaway hair tickling his face and neck. But Severus couldn't sleep. He laid there with his eyes wide open and wept silently, tears dropping down his cheeks and catching in his hair.

He would carry those blasphemous thoughts about killing her to his grave.

For the third night in a row, she stayed, and she was already awake when he opened his eyes to the fresh new day. They were facing each other, and her hand was draped possessively on his neck. When his memory of their encounter last night came rushing back, his breath caught, even though she applied no pressure. She gave him the _welcome-home_ smile, and she asked, "Did you know you talk in your sleep?"

Oh, that was _not good._

"I do, too," she said quickly, "ever since the Department of Mysteries. The airheads told me I was confessing my battle sins." Hermione pulled her hand away to clench it into a fist, frowning deeply. "Cheap shots, mostly, but also hesitating in my terror. And, worst of all, failing to keep everyone alive."

Severus sneered, "Black does not deserve your guilt."

Hermione rolled away, and Severus nearly wept again at the loss of her warm comfort. She stood next to the bed, glaring down at him. "He does not deserve your disdain. He's _dead,_ Severus, and if I should let go of my guilt, then you should let go of your grudge."

He snarled, also getting up and reaching for his clothes.

They dressed silently, and he wished he better understood both the tension hanging in the air and also the ache in his heart. Would this be it? The stupid thing he said to drive her away? Should he even try begging forgiveness? It never worked before, why would he bother now?

Fully dressed, he sat heavily on the edge of the bed, facing away from her and waiting for her to make the next move. When she did, she simply sat next to him, also wearing her completed outfit, and she gave a sneer worthy of him when she said, "I have to go back to my room now and find out what sort of thank-you notes I'll be forced to write... for gifts I don't actually want."

He snorted, amused at the bitterness he understood only too well.

"Here," she said, pressing a parcel into his hands. "Happy Christmas, Severus."

Long after she'd gone, he sat there, staring at the slim stack of folded parchments, tied with a ribbon. He never gave out gifts himself, and he wasn't sure the last time he'd been given a holiday gift from someone who really meant it. Albus, maybe, was honest about the socks. Minerva, maybe, was honest about the Firewhisky. But something personal? Truly thoughtful? Not since his mother bought him a toy that would make no noise to upset his father, and the bastard had broken it anyway. Severus' hands shook as he pulled the bow loose.

At first, he was confused, and it took him a full five minutes to understand what he was looking at. It was a set of six sketches which looked vaguely like blueprints, but not as precise or detailed. Layouts to homes, mostly unfurnished, except for the libraries and potions labs. Two little magically animated stick figures with long hair, one lank and one bushy, occupied each of these homes. They engaged in the simple activities of reading, brewing, and casually touching each other as they changed books or reached for ingredients.

It was too good to be true. Too good to hope. It was only a fantasy. A dream. Later that same day, he burned the parchments, but not before memorizing every detail of all six drawings.

Something changed after Christmas, and the Revels were canceled. Later Severus would understand that the Dark Lord was displeased at how Malfoy would host such lavish entertainment when there was important work to be done, not least of which by Draco.

He would _not_ understand how Hermione found no excuse to come to the lab.

It was during the month of May, while he was busy making himself unapproachable at a staff meeting when he overheard Minerva gossiping with Pomona, "...so glad that Mister Weasley came to his senses about Miss Granger..."

Severus was suddenly as breathless as he'd been that night with Hermione's hands on his throat. Once again abandoned for a popular quidditch player, he could only think: _At least it wasn't Potter._

Weeks passed, and then, it was time. He delivered the killing blow, striking down a living legend. Albus had counseled Severus many times on the importance of this task, the mercy it would be, but that didn't make it any better. As if casting the Killing Curse wasn't enough torture for his soul, Severus then had to endure the cheering of his fellow Death Eaters and accept accolades from the Dark Lord. There was no chance to grieve, and no one to share the burden.

The one person who might have had a chance at understanding would shortly be on the run. When the Ministry fell, he knew he would probably never see her again. The Revels resumed, and he missed coming home to her comfort.

In the lonely nights as the new Headmaster, trusted by no one and hated by everyone, he would often dream of her. He would shut off his emotions during the day, but that meant they all came out at night. He woke up screaming more than once, as he saw visions of all the redheads he killed morph into Hermione's form. All of the nameless ones, anyway. Lily never came to him in his dreams. She never had.

Strong women did not accept him. But Hermione had. She had accepted his broken soul while she could, and she had left him with six little promises of a future he didn't feel he deserved. Severus did not expect to survive what was coming, but for the first time since Lily's death, he had some hope. If he and Hermione both made it out alive, Severus would go to her and make his case. He wanted that quiet life of the scholar, puttering about their library and lab, and he wanted her _welcome-home_ smile to greet him every night.

He didn't know that the Dark Revel in early April would be the last. It was becoming mundane, actually, the way he would roll his eyes through the official gathering and then simply talk to his victims before putting them out of their misery. This time, he returned from the private room and found Lucius right away. Severus put on his most satisfied, smug expression, thanked his host for being so thoughtful, and requested bushy-haired brunette for next time.

_♪ Through every forest above the trees_  
_♪ Within my stomach scraped off my knees_  
_♪ I drink the honey inside your hive_  
_♪ You are the reason I stay alive_

Less than a month later, he was gasping for his last breath, on the floor of the Shrieking Shack, pouring out a carefully edited set of memories for Potter. No doubt Hermione was nearby, but the soul-wrenching pain of thinking she had to watch him die compounded the physical agony of Nagini's attack, and he lost his grip on reality. He could only hang on to this flawed existence a little longer by retreating to a dream deep in his mind... the dream of a quiet life as a potioneer, coming home at night to a studious woman who fell asleep with a book as often as he did.


End file.
